So, as I mentioned earlier, I sat up half the night last night talking politics with an old friend. The conversation — which occasionally flirted with becoming an argument but thankfully never went too far in that direction — was pretty standard liberal vs. conservative stuff and isn’t worth detailing here. (Not that I could reconstruct much of it anyhow; one consequence — or perhaps it’s a blessing — of having these conversations at two in the morning is that they end up looking pretty hazy the next day.) But one thing my friend said struck me as noteworthy, because it was so unexpected and, from my point of view, so very odd.
My friend said that he and others he knows who share similar views often feel like they don’t dare express their opinions, for fear of offending people, starting an argument, and/or being unfairly judged. Now, I completely understand and sympathize with that feeling. As a self-identified liberal* living in the reddest state in the Union, I experience it to one degree or another just about every day. It’s the reason why I rarely blog about politics or controversial topics, because I know the bulk of my audience doesn’t agree with me and I don’t want to pick fights with my friends (or, indeed, with anyone; I don’t need the elevated blood pressure and anxiety that comes with it). But here’s the thing that I found so strange about my friend’s comment: his opinions are basically the same as those of roughly 75 percent of this state’s population. In other words, the overwhelming majority of people around these parts are on his side. So realistically just who does he think he’s going to offend? Why should he of all people feel insecure about speaking up?
I don’t mean to make light of what he said or invalidate his feelings in any way — if he feels intimidated or inhibited, that’s what he feels and it’s not my place to say he’s wrong for feeling that way. And perhaps I misunderstood what he was getting at; maybe he was just saying what my mom has always told me, which is that it’s impolite and generally a bad idea to discuss religion and politics openly. Maybe his job places him in situations where he’s more likely to find himself interacting with that dissenting minority and he’s had to learn to keep his mouth shut to avoid problems (welcome to my world). But given the overall demographics of our environment here… well, it just struck me as a very odd thing to say…
* For what it’s worth, my friend told me he doesn’t think I’m as liberal as I believe myself to be. I suppose I should take that as a form of compliment.
I also feel that way, though since a fair number of my beliefs tend towards the 25% who don’t think like the majority, and since I think I work in the reddest store in this the reddest state and have been called many things, including Democrat, to my face, it may be understandable why I’m a little gun shy about expressing my political beliefs. I ought to tell you of me election day conversation with these people. Suffice it to say, apparantly that Coke commercial where they’d like to teach the world to sing is Satan’s plan in a nutshell.
Awww, I’ve always loved that ad! Of course, that probably shouldn’t be a surprise, since I am one of Satan’s woolly-headed thralls…
It is strange, though, that we live in a society where people are advised not to discuss religion or politics, two subjects that would seem to touch on our most fundamental views of the world. I’d rather we argue openly about things that really matter than to limit our conversations either to people we already agree with or to topics we all agree on.
The problem, of course, is that these two topics come wrapped in deep emotions and issues of identity, so it’s often nearly impossible to discuss them calmly and rationally. People get excited, then upset, then — in the worst-case scenario — the friendship is over.
Actually, I suppose the worst-case scenario is someone pulling a weapon on the other person. I’m sure that’s been known to happen. And of course, that would be a pretty good signal that the friendship is over.
Yes, it’s true – I can’t think of a single close friend who has shot me in the heat of a political discussion.
All kidding aside, this blog post has been percolating inside of me for at least three years, and I’ve never found a way to sufficiently put it into words. Basically, I’ve been noticing that opinion polls, opinion talk shows, and opinion blogs (aren’t they all?) have become so pervasive recently, that they’ve gone from being a measure of what people think to being an influence on what they think. In other words, the fact that 70% of the country think George W. Bush has done a bad job, coupled with the fact that we’ve heard that statistic so frequently, makes it very difficult for people to disagree with the sentiment, even just a little bit. It’s as if original thought and/or researched opinion has been supplanted by societal zeitgeist, and if you disagree, you run the risk of appearing crazy or stupid, regardless of what room you’re in.
See? Hard to capture it in words. The best I’ve been able to do on my blog, I think, is this entry, which gets close to the issue, but still doesn’t hit the nail on the head.
Oh, and by the way, I was up late debating politics over the holidays as well…
Must have been the season, eh, Brian?
I think I know what you’re getting at: how much of our opinions is really our own thinking, and how much is just a mirror of all the other voices we encounter during the day. It’s a valid and interesting question.
But do you think it’s really any different today than it’s always been, at least since the rise of mass media (i.e., radio, television, widely distributed newspapers)? And if so, why? Because the media is so much more pervasive now than it used to be?
I think it is different today (although that might be my perceptions yet again).
Back in the day, when a political event occurred (say a presidential debate), there was an opinion poll, but it would happen a day or two after the event. Today, we have opinion polling during the debate itself (remember CNN’s red and blue lines?), followed immediately by a detailed breakdown of what people thought of it (segmented by gender, race, religion, region, etc.) In the past, I think the polls were a data point about how the country felt about the debate. Now, it feels much more like the cable channel you’re watching has shown you the debate, and is now telling you how to feel about it. Those who shut the TV off right after the debate ends, without listening to the “analysis,” probably walk away with a very different impression.
Again – I’m not sure why I have trouble articulating my point on this topic, but I’m never satisified with anything I write about it…
That’s a good point about the instantaneous nature of feedback today. The 24-hour news cycle, which has generally led to more sensationalistic and superficial coverage — i.e., blabbing for hours about today’s outrage, which is then forgotten tomorrow — is probably a factor as well.